


Cake

by Magi_Silverwolf



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Autistic Harry Potter, Canon typical child abuse, Gen, Internalized Abuse, Pre-Canon, internalized ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 14:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magi_Silverwolf/pseuds/Magi_Silverwolf
Summary: Harry had a plan. It involved making Dudley a cake.





	Cake

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.  
> Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Please exercise understanding of personal boundaries before and during reading.
> 
> Author’s Note(s): Many mistakenly believe that this means that she has a learning disorder. I blame blatantly false representation for this ignorant lie, which is the politest way I can express that. Autism actually is a neurological divergence that cripples an individual’s ability to filter sensory input, including the instinctive sense of emotional context that is found within most of humanity. Without the ability to process or recognize the nonlinguistic communication that makes up 87% of human communication, individuals find themselves adrift in a world that is screaming gibberish at them. Understandably, this interferes with their ability to participate in many social, work, and family activities as people without this disorder would. I apologize if you find my tone overly harsh. Maybe someday you will understand why.

-= LP =-  
Cake  
-= LP =-

 

Harry quietly opened the door to his cupboard. He had a plan. He had been planning it for weeks, making careful notes in the back of his school workbook. Aunt Petunia had strict rules about what Harry was allowed to make in the kitchen, but it was for Dudley. Aunt Petunia wouldn’t be upset about Harry wanting to do something special for Dudley, not when Dudley was going to be so happy about his surprise.

 

It was only long practice that allowed Harry to wrestle his stool into place. He climbed onto the counter quickly. Even standing on his toes and stretching, he barely managed to reach the big mixing bowl on the top shelf of the cabinet. One hand clutching his prize, Harry had to grab the cabinet door to keep from falling backwards under the sudden weight. He looked over his shoulder at the ground that seemed dizzyingly far now and swallowed hard.

 

That was close.

 

He’d have to be more careful or he was going to be caught before he had completed his plan. That would be worse than any of his other freakish misbehavior or stupidity. If he fell, then he wouldn’t be able to make Dudley his treat. If he couldn’t make Dudley his treat, then there would be no way his plan would succeed.

 

He needed his plan to succeed.

 

Bowl in hand, Harry climbed off the counter. Then he gathered the ingredients he needed. That went much smoother. Aunt Petunia always made him get them when he was cooking, so he was used to scaling the little ladder in the pantry to get things. The door to the fridge gave him a bit of trouble, because the seal was almost too strong for him to break, but Harry managed.

 

Soon he had everything he needed in front of him. He closed his eyes, bringing up the instructions he had memorized and unaware that he was rocking slightly to calm his nerves. This had to work. He had carefully planned all of it. He knew this had to be the way to make Aunt Petunia happy. If Aunt Petunia was happy with him, then maybe she would be willing to kiss his cheek like she did Dudley. Maybe he might even get a short hug. His stomach ached as he squished the thought of possibly even earning a cuddle on the couch. That was as likely as Ripper becoming a cat.

 

Harry carefully followed the instructions. The batter came together easily. Aunt Petunia’s bridge club always talked like cake was so hard to make, but Harry wasn’t understanding why they would think that. He poured the batter into his prepared pans and carefully shook them to release any air bubbles.

 

There was only one step left. Harry curled his arms around himself, unconsciously rocking again. Up until now, everything had gone unnoticed. He had been quiet enough that even Aunt Petunia hadn’t heard him and she heard everything. But there would be nothing he could do to hide the smell of chocolate from spreading beyond the kitchen. He had known that; he _had_. This was a good plan. Getting this far, it only made sense to finish it. He would do it, too, just as soon as he remembered how to breathe again.

 

Pain ripped through the haze of worry that had been choking him. Harry looked down to see that the choppy nubs of his nails had broken the skin of his arms. He had started scratching again. That just showed how right Aunt Petunia was about him. If he couldn’t be trusted not to misbehave any time his attention lapsed, why should he expect the same rewards as Dudley who wasn’t such a horrid brat? Harry swallowed around the sob trying to escape. He didn’t have time to waste with fake tears.

 

He had a plan to finish.

 

It was a good plan. This plan was definitely going to work. Dudley would love the cake. It would make him happy. When Dudley was happy, Aunt Petunia was happy. If Aunt Petunia was happy, she always liked to love on Dudley. If Harry was the source of the happiness, then she would include him, too, if only a little bit.

 

Harry would be happy with a little bit.

 

While the cakes were baking, Harry cleaned up his mess. Then he started on the filling that would hold the three layers together and the frosting that would cover the outside. He covered the two bowls to keep a skin from forming. Then he had nothing to do but wait for his cakes to finish or for the smell of chocolate cake to draw the Dursleys from their beds.

 

He heard Dudley stomping down the stairs first. Harry swallowed hard but tensed his muscles to keep from moving in any freakish way. Dudley wouldn’t hesitate to let Aunt Petunia know about how bad Harry was acting. That would upset Aunt Petunia and for the plan to work, Aunt Petunia had to be happy. Harry could behave for once; he could.

 

“Mummy, I’m hungry,” Dudley said as he lumbered into the kitchen. He was still rubbing his eyes.

 

Harry swallowed again. According to their teacher, their birthdays were only a little over a month apart from each other, but Dudley was easily twice Harry’s size. Since they had started school, Dudley had also discovered how fun beating Harry up was. While that always hurt and thus was unpleasant, Harry didn’t have time to let Dudley have his fun right then; his cakes were almost ready to pull from the oven.

 

“You’re not Mummy,” Dudley accused. “Where’s Mummy?”

 

“Sleeping,” Harry said, barely managing to get the word out.

 

“But I smell cake,” Dudley argued.

 

“I made cake,” Harry whispered, “and it’s ‘specially for you.”

 

“Freaks don’t make cake,” Dudley said. “Mummies make cake. You’re a liar!”

 

“No, I made cake,” Harry protested. Disappointment and fear clawed in his gut. This wasn’t the plan. This was wrong. His shoulders drooped. He still had to try, even if his voice was sounding worse to his ear with every passing word. “It’s a good cake! Chocolate! That’s your favorite!”

 

“I don’t want _your_ cake,” Dudley snapped. “I want Mummy’s cake!”

 

“What’s wrong, Duddikins?” Aunt Petunia asked as she hurried into the kitchen. She immediately began carding her fingers through her son’s hair.

 

“The freak said he made a cake and I can’t have any.” Dudley’s voice was the oddly pitched one that always made Aunt Petunia and Aunt Marge dote on him the most, like he was going to cry any second. Harry could never copy it. “Make him share, Mummy!”

 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Aunt Petunia cooed. Then her voice turned hard and cold. “The horrid little boy isn’t going to have any cake. Mummy will take care of everything.”

 

Harry couldn’t stop the yelp of pain as her hand clenched around his arm. She dragged him down the hall to his cupboard and shoved him in. He heard the lock slide into place before she stomped away without a word.

 

In the distance, he heard the buzzer go off, announcing that the cakes were done.

 

-= LP =-  
The End  
-= LP =-

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge/Competition Block:  
> Stacked with: Houses Competition (Term 3); MC4A  
> House: Hufflepuff  
> Year: 6th  
> Category: Additional (600 – 1200 words)  
> Prompt: Disappointment (emotion)  
> Representation: Failed Experiment; Harry Potter; Dursleys;  
> Bonus Challenge(s): Sitting Hummingbird; Second Verse (Ladylike - Uncaring); Second Verse (Wabi Sabi); Second Verse (Nontraditional); Second Verse (Mouth of Babes); Second Verse (Tomorrow's Shade); Second Verse (Unwanted Advice); Second Verse (Delicious Lie);  
> Word Count: 1196


End file.
